


holiday greetings and gay happy meetings

by oh_no_oh_dear



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Airports, Christmas, Established Relationship, Family, Holidays, Implied Homophobia (very mild), M/M, Snow, Trans Male Character, Ugly Holiday Sweaters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-26
Updated: 2017-12-26
Packaged: 2019-02-22 03:16:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13158108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oh_no_oh_dear/pseuds/oh_no_oh_dear
Summary: Sam and Bucky. Airport. Snowstorm. Absolutely no hijinks ensue, but they are cute.





	holiday greetings and gay happy meetings

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve been sleeping all Christmas Day and I just woke up and thought “I MUST WRITE A CHRISTMAS FIC” so here you are! Happy holidays if that’s your thing, and if it’s not: happy day-day!! 
> 
> ETA: And then I was all “Let me enjoy copious amounts of Christmas cheer!” and wasn’t sober enough to post it on Christmas Day. So enjoy this Boxing Day fic!

  
_It’s the most wonderful time of the year,_ Andy Williams crooned smoothly through the speakers hidden around the airport lounge. Bucky scoffed. There were some modern holiday traditions that he’d kind of come to like, like the elaborate decorations and holiday lights that started appearing earlier every year. He even liked a lot of Christmas songs (that Carey woman had done something incredible, and Bucky wouldn’t rest until he was able to hit that famous note in ‘All I Want For Christmas Is You’.)   
  
But right now, the cheerful holiday music did nothing but mock them. Bucky chanced a look at Sam, who was in the running for Grumpiest Person Wearing An Ugly Christmas Sweater. The thick snowflakes outside swirled mercilessly, not caring that they were absolutely fucking up hundreds of passengers’ holiday plans and making Bucky’s usually happy boyfriend wear a thunderous frown.   
  
    “You wanna call Steve to come back for us?” Bucky tried, scratching yet again at his own sweater. Darlene Wilson had insisted that they wear something “cute and coupley” this year; it was the first time that he would be included in the family Christmas picture. Sam’s sweater had the front part of Rudolph the red-nosed reindeer; Bucky had the other half: a matching reindeer ass. Sam assured Bucky that his mother would find it funny.   
  
Sam shrugged listlessly, holding up his phone. No signal.   
“Steve shouldn’t be driving in this bullshit weather anyway,” Sam replied.   
  
    “You think that’d stop him?” Bucky asked, raising his eyebrows. Sam almost smiled back.   
  
    “It wouldn’t, and that’s the damn problem. _You_ try explaining to Sharon that her idiot husband got lost in a snowstorm.”  
  
    “You’re saying that like she wouldn’t be beside him plannin’ the fastest route here.”  
  
Sam managed a tiny smirk this time, conceding Bucky’s point. They’d spent a quiet 23rd with the couple, until Sam’s famous eggnog had kicked in and sparked the most vicious game of Risk that any of them had known. Sharon and Sam had teamed up and absolutely destroyed the other two. Then had come Monopoly (Steve was the crowing victor.) Then, Bucky had almost caused a fistfight because of the fact that he was an asshole when it came to Uno. It had been perfect, and the slightly watery way they’d bid their friends goodbye at the airport earlier this evening had tugged at Sam and Bucky’s heartstrings. They’d miss the Carter-Rogerses, even though they were blessedly assured of getting a much tastier meal at the Wilsons.   
  
_Oh, the weather outside is frightful--_  
  
    “Oh, _shut up,_ ” Sam muttered now, irritable again. Bucky took his hand, rubbing his thumb comfortingly overly Sam’s knuckles.   
“I know,” Sam said to Bucky’s unspoken statement. “I’m just mad ‘cos it’s Sasha’s 5th Christmas now, and I wanted her to see… her uncle. Y’know?”  
  
    “I know.”  
  
It’d been almost 2 years since Sam had come out, a little over 1 since he’d started physically transitioning. He was nervous because of more than ugly sweaters and the shitty weather.   
  
    “I’m gonna ask about the flight, see if anything’s changed,” Bucky decided. Sitting there and feeling miserable was going to make their Christmas Eve even worse than it already was. Sam nodded, gnawing his lower lip and looking anxiously at the screen covered in DELAYED flights.  
“Evening, miss. I was--” Bucky began.  
  
    “We can’t get you into first class sir, I’m sorry. We’re doing our best to get updates on the weather, please be patient.” The attendant, an older woman whose name tag declared her to be ‘Atsuko,’ looked extremely harried even as she flashed a tight smile at Bucky. He wondered how many irate passengers she’d been dealing with, and felt a flash of empathy.   
  
He nodded in understanding, not bothering to correct her that he didn’t care about getting into first class.  
“Thanks, Atsuko,” he said instead. Her smile melted into something more genuine when he used her name. “You guys must be real busy right now, huh?”  
  
    “All part of the holidays, sir!” she returned cheerfully. He could sense that she wanted to roll her eyes. He could relate. Glancing over his shoulder at Sam’s tense form, he made a decision.   
  
    “Atsuko, if I ask you a question, will you be honest with me?”  
  
Her only response was a slow blink. He decided liked her.   
  
“We’re not leaving this airport tonight, are we?” he pressed. Her smile looked more like a grimace, and that was more than enough of an answer.  
  
    “I’m not at liberty to say, sir,” she said smoothly.   
  
    “Bucky?” Sam asked from beside him as he joined them. “Everything okay?”  
  
    “Oh, yeah. Me and Atsuko are having a nice little chat about the holidays.”  
  
The attendant repressed a snort and fixed her face into something blandly pleasant.   
  
    “You’re probably taking up her valuable time, baby,” Sam murmured. He smiled at Atsuko and added, “You’re all doing a great job, we’ll get out of your hair now. You gotta be swamped.”   
  
Atsuko glanced to her side, where her co-worker was blatantly scrolling Instagram on his phone, and wrinkled her nose.   
“Not really, actually. All we can do is wait for updates, and those are slow coming.”  
  
    “And if I hear Bing Crosby one more time I’m gonna eat my own computer,” the man beside her interjected.   
  
Sam had that effect on people; they dropped their guard, talked more freely around him. Bucky was still in awe of it.   
  
    “In that case, I’m gonna make a coffee run,” Sam said decisively. “What would you two like?”  
  
    “Eggnog latte,” the man (Ryan) said, at the same time that Atsuko demurred that they couldn’t accept gifts from customers. Sam grinned at her, and Buck made an encouraging “go on” gesture. Her smile was real now, big and bright as she asked for extra whipped cream on her hot chocolate.  
  
\---  
  
    “You’re so friggin’ _nice,_ ” Bucky murmured from beside Sam on their uncomfortable chairs. It was hour 5 of their delay, and they were some of the few who were still awake in the lounge. Atsuko and Ryan had left for a break, replaced by one exhausted-looking Black man (Theo) who nonetheless had the sense of humour to ‘congratulate’ them on being the least angry crowd of passengers in the airport.   
  
    “‘S that a bad thing, Barnes?” Sam yawned. He was slumped heavily against Bucky’s right shoulder, enjoying his warmth and the smell of his shampoo (i.e. _Sam’s_ shampoo.)   
  
    “Nah. You just make the rest of us look like assholes,” Bucky joked. He shifted so that he could put his arm over Sam’s shoulders and pull him closer. An older woman caught his eye, but she just smiled indulgently and returned to her book.   
  
    “Maybe you should try not being an asshole, then.”    
  
    “Never.” Bucky kissed the side of Sam’s head noisily just to hear him grump about how gross Bucky was, feeling oddly content despite them being trapped in a stuffy airport instead of eating warm cornbread and having various Wilson kids ask them invasive but well-meaning questions.   
  
    “What you guys want?” an unfamiliar voice asked from in front of them. A tall man tapped the small spiral-bound notebook in his hand as he stood, shifting uncomfortably.  
  
    “Sorry?” Sam asked, shifting to sit up but not moving away from Bucky. The man’s eyes flitted between them, but he didn’t comment on it.   
  
    “We got a system. Someone does a snack run every couple hours. It’s my turn. You, uh… you gonna share?”  
  
Bucky was mildly amused by the man’s obvious discomfort, but appreciated the gesture all the same. Still…  
“Babe? Snacks?”  
  
Sam cleared his throat in a way that meant he was smothering a laugh. “Yeah, sweetie. Mmm… pretty much the only snack we both like is pretzels. That okay with you?”  
  
    “Yeah,” the man said, scribbling down their request. He seemed to steel himself before adding, “You two are … you two have happy holidays.”  
  
\---  
  
    “Bucky, that’s _nasty._ You’re _nasty_ ,” Sam said. Bucky’s mouth was too full of pretzels to reply, but he mumbled something about him not telling _Sam_ how to eat, so leave him alone. Jodie and Khalidah, their little Go Fish companions, giggled at Bucky’s bulging cheeks. Nearby, their parents were keeping an eye, but seemed content to let their daughters use their _Moana_ themed playing cards with the two men. It was hour 10, and the group that had stubbornly remained waiting for their flight had become a little community of sorts.   
  
Jodie’s little face got serious and she adjusted her pink hijab; she meant _business_.   
“Do you… have…” there was a dramatic pause “...any _sixes_?!”  
  
    “ _Noooo_ , I know you know I have sixes!” Sam wailed, hamming it up for their benefit. Khalidah pointed accusingly at Sam, declaring “You gotta give her _all_ your sixes” with the authority of a big sister.   
  
Bucky smacked his lips, finally finished with his pretzels. “That’s a tough break, Sammy. Okay… hmmmm… Khalidah, you got any eights?”  
  
Khalidah furrowed her brow. “I want to lie,” she said solemnly, “but mama says not to.”  
  
    “That’s smart,” Bucky said, equally solemn.   
  
    “Okay,” she said. “I have…. _No eights!_ Go fish! Hahaha!” Sam and Jodie laughed gleefully as Bucky poutily took another card.   
  
\---  
  
    “I have the worst fuckin' luck, man,” Kris muttered from under his hoodie. Sam grimaced.   
  
    “But at least you’re done exams, right?” he said encouragingly. Bucky had fallen asleep somewhere around hour 11, but Sam was too wired to rest. Krishna had come over to find a companion to complain about not having had a cigarette in over a day, but he’d stayed despite Sam not being a smoker.   
  
    “Yeah, I’m done exams. I’m supposed to be drunk off my ass at my cousin’s place and then we’re doin’ a cross-country road trip. It’s such bullshit that prices ‘n’ shit are skyhigh for a holiday I don’t even fuck with,” Kris sighed. “Uh, no offense.”  
  
    “Nah, I know Christmas isn’t for everyone. For the record, I think the price thing is some bullshit, too. I’d usually go earlier, but ma wanted us there on Christmas Day this year. Family picture and all that. It’s why I’m wearing this dumbass sweater.”  
  
    “Yeah, I was gonna ask about that. You and that other guy…”  
  
    “My boyfriend.”  
  
    “Oh  _word?_ Cool, yeah. That’s the funniest damn sweater I’ve ever seen. I wanted to tell him but he passed out. How’s he even sleep on the floor like that?”  
  
 _He’s slept in much worse places._ “I dunno.”  
  
\---  
  
    “Mr. Wilson?”  
  
Sam’s eyes tried to flutter open, but they were sticky with sleep. _Gross._   
“Mmngh?”  
  
    “Mr. Wilson, sorry for waking you. We just wanted you to know that your flight is boarding now, and we’ve upgraded you to first class.” Theo was leaning over them, his long locs pulled into a ponytail that was spilling over his shoulders. Bucky blinked awake at once as he always did, but Sam’s head felt stuffed with cotton and he could smell his own sweat after so long in the airport. _Ugh_.   
  
    “I got… wuh? Why?” Sam mumbled, sitting up and wincing as his back complained.   
  
    “Atsuko upgraded you two before her shift ended. She wanted me to tell you happy holidays, too.”  
  
    “Well, shit. Wait--” Sam straightened fully, taking in the lounge. Besides the debris of almost a full day of airport meals and snacks, and a single playing card from little Jodie and Khalidah’s deck, almost everyone else had disappeared.   
“Is everyone else boarded?”  
  
    “Yes, sir.”   
  
    “And… we’re not taking someone’s seat?”  
  
Theo smiled and shook his head a little, gesturing to the NOW BOARDING message on the screen behind him.   
“I can see why people have taken such a liking to you now.”  
  
    “Eh?”  
  
    “People from this group were pretty insistent that you both make it onto the flight. Seems you made a pretty good impression.”  
  
    “See?” Bucky said, having already gathered up their things. He pressed Sam’s passport into his hands as he added, “you’re friggin’ nice.”  
  
\---  
  
    “ _Baby!_ ” Darlene cried, scooping Sam into a tight hug. He knew he smelled awful, although he’d tried to tidy up in the bathroom on the way and had popped countless Altoids to try to deal with his breath.   
“We were so worried that you wouldn’t be able to make it at all,” she continued. “We saw that your flight was delayed, and your phone was dead, and… damn, boy, you’re gonna give me a heart attack.”  
  
    “Sorry, ma,” Sam mumbled. He still beamed when she kissed his cheeks, murmuring that he looked ‘So handsome’ before moving on to pull Bucky into a hug and exclaim that he was too pale, wasn’t he going outside nowadays?  
  
    “Sammy?” Sarah said quietly from beside him. He felt his heart kick into double-time as his niece, taller and more gangly than he remembered, shyly hid behind Sarah’s legs.   
“Hi, big brother,” she said cautiously. It had been a little harder for her to get used to Sam’s news than it had been for their mother, but she tried hard.   
  
    “Sarah, I’m… it’s good to see you.”  
  
    “You look good, Sam. Really good.”  
  
He felt a little teary. “Thanks.”  
  
    “You don’t _smell_ so good, though--”  
  
    “Girl, you try bein’ in an airport for 14 hours and smelling like roses!” he said, surprising her into a laugh.   
  
    “Eh! You’d catch me hovering by the Burberry counter tryna get samples! What you mean?”  
  
    “Mo-o-o-om?” Sasha whined, bored with the lack of attention. Sam glanced down and felt anxious all over again. He was seeing his niece for the first time as Uncle Sam, and although he would try not to take any negative reaction personally, it’d still sting.  
  
    “We had a long talk,” Sarah said quietly so that only Sam could hear. He nodded slowly, crouching so that he could be eye-to-eye with Sasha.   
  
    “Hi, Shasha,” he cooed. She hid her face in her mom’s skirt for a few moments until Sarah urged her to say hello to her uncle.   
  
    “Hi,” she mumbled, looking at the floor.   
  
    “Hi,” he repeated. He wasn’t going to force the interaction; he was letting her take the lead so that she was comfortable. She scuffed her foot on the floor a couple times and finally looked at him, frowning as she took in his radically changed appearance.   
  
    “Your _hair,_ ” she said disapprovingly. “It’s gone. I wanted us to get plaits together. Gran’ma was gonna put in beads.”   
  
_Oh, shit._   
  
    “How ‘bout Bucky? He has long hair,” Sam said soothingly. Sasha scowled.   
  
    “Yeah,” she said dismissively. “But why’s your hair gone?”  
  
    “Sasha,” her mother intoned in warning. Sam caught Sarah’s eye and shook his head. _I got this._  
  
    “I like my hair like this,” Sam said simply. Sasha narrowed her eyes, folding her arms. She’d really had her heart set on having matching hairstyles with Sam, and the reality of the situation hadn’t really set in until now.   
“I feel really happy with it like this, Shasha.”  
  
    “Happy?”  
  
    “Uh-huh.”  
  
    “Oh. Okay. I won't be mad at you.”  
  
    “Really?”  
  
    “Yeah. But Uncle Sam, I don’t wanna match with Bucky, I wanna match with _you._ ” Sasha was looking a little teary and Sam felt a mixture of being overjoyed that she’d called him ‘uncle’ without hesitation, and sadness because she was disappointed about his hair.  
  
    “I’m sorry, honey. Oh-- would mommy be okay if we painted our nails together?”  
  
Sarah gave Sam a Look, but she nodded when her daughter looked pleadingly up at her. Sam inwardly heaved a sigh of relief.   
“Is that okay, Shasha? We can have matching nails!”   
  
    “You _promise_?”  
  
    “Of course. Christmas colours?”  
  
    “Yeah!” Sasha flew into his arms now, almost knocking him over where he was crouching. He hugged her tightly and let her rub her hands on his short hair, marvel at his facial hair and did he _really_ spend a whole day in the airport just so he could come see them? Really really? Was that why he smelled so bad? Could she hug uncle Bucky? Why was he called _Bucky_? Was it like a chicken sound? Could she touch his hair again? Would gran’ma put beads in _Bucky’s_ hair?  
  
As Sasha latched onto her uncle’s shoulders for a piggyback ride, loudly asking Bucky if he knew the words to cartoon theme songs he’d never heard, Sam caught the snatches of that song again.   
  
_It’s the most wonderful time of the year…_   
  
Sam glanced over and caught Bucky’s eye. Far from the frightened, cornered-animal look he’d worn the first time, he had melted into an easy chatter with Darlene and Sarah while fielding Sasha's never-ending questions. It sounded like he’d been roped into letting Sasha style his hair for their family photo, as well as carving this year’s roast beef because “Sam takes too damn long makin’ sure the pieces are perfect.”  
  
Sam would let ol’ Andy Williams have this one. It was pretty wonderful. 

 

* * *

  
  
    “Uncle Sam, how come you and uncle Bucky were jumping on the bed and crying last night?” Sasha asked cheerily the next morning as soon as the conversation had the slightest pause.   
  
    “ _ Time to open presents!” _ Sam said loudly, trying to ignore how hard his mother and sister were laughing. Sasha immediately forgot her line of questioning and ran over, grabbing his hand to compare their green and red nails. Bucky, his hair in two sloppy pigtails, was curled up on the couch with a mug of apple cider with Sarah and Darlene, the three of them looking at old Wilson family photo albums.   
  
When a camera flash suddenly went off, Sam looked up in alarm. “ _ Ma!” _   
  
In the picture he was smiling down at his little niece, who was giggling at how chipped his nails were already. Bucky was pointing at something in the photo album, his mouth awkwardly in an ‘o’ shape because he was mid-speech, and Sarah was halfway to taking a gulp of her drink, her tongue poking out of her mouth. Darlene was the only one prepared with a pose and a sweet smile, because she’d been the one to set up the camera and timer without telling the others.    
  
  
It was to be the official Wilson family Christmas card for the next 5 years running, no matter how much Sarah begged her mother to delete it. 


End file.
